Denn die toten reiten schnell
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: Crossover with 'The Woman in Black'. "The young man didn't look particularly interesting but Vera was in no doubt that he was the one Jennet had been waiting for and traipsing over these moors waiting for and now he was here and… she wasn't bloody doing anything! Weren't ghosts supposed to rattle chains and actually scare the living?"


A/N: So yes, it's a _Woman in Black _crossover. Enjoy!

Oh and I don't think some of the incidents are _exactly_ as they appear in the book/film, so please excuse me for that.

* * *

Of all the things that Vera hated about the afterlife she had narrowed it down to three that were vying for the top spot and were making her life, or lack thereof, utter shite.

She hated that she was ineffectual for the most part and could only move things very slightly in the world of the living – she'd enjoyed herself thoroughly moving stones around Ouija boards until that dozy girl and Miss Smith had taken it too seriously – but she'd been stopped from that small pleasure.

She loathed that after years of being able to intimidate people with a single look as she had learnt from her Granny she was now one of the _normal_ looking ones. Too many people had been blown up in the war or died violent deaths recently and other than being a bit pale from the last throws of the poison she looked as she ever did. Which wasn't very useful now.

But above all else, she _despised_ the fucking _buddy_ scheme. It was stupid and pointless and she didn't _need_ an older ghost to show her how she was supposed to go about her business now and she especially didn't need one that never bleedin' spoke and vanished to the world of the living every five fucking seconds because there was someone needed a spooking. Or whatever reason it was that took Jennet to the middle of nowhere and made her follow every time at least a dozen times a day.

It wasn't even as if there was anyone in the house!

"How about that?" Vera stared at the other woman's wasted face with mock-surprise and wide eyes. "Your sister's still dead. Can we go back now?"

The cold dead eyes stared glared at her, hollowed out by the ravages of her last illness. For the living she imagined that those eyes were filled with horrors and sent a chill up the spine but for her it just added to her annoyance: why was everyone scarier than her?

Jennet paid no heed to her complaints though and trudged across the swampy moors that surrounded Eel Marsh House with strong intentional steps and Vera stumbled after her. Whatever otherworldly grace Jennet Humphries had she was yet to pick up herself and every single splash of the mud up her boots caused her to grit her teeth with irritation, even if it did immediately vanish. That was something else she hated – she mentally added to her list – the fact that nothing mattered anymore. She could probably blow her brains out with one of the service revolvers that some of the soldiers still clung to and her skull would just knit itself back together.

She caught her foot in a knoll in the ground and growled after the other woman.

"Where're we going anyway? There's no one in the house."

Jennet stopped, which was unusual in itself, and was by her side in the blink of an eye with a momentum that caught Vera off guard and caused her to fall to the ground with her heel still caught. She cursed loudly and hit the ground with her fist, feeling like a bloody toddler more and more every day and it wasn't helped by the look of disdain in the other woman's face.

"You could at least offer to help me up."

The face remained immobile and the hands stayed put by Jennet's side but the other woman did move around her until she was stood with her back to Vera, the expanse of her skirt hiding her charge. Vera scowled and cautiously leaned around the skirt, following the other woman's gaze through the depressing graveyard at the side of the house until she saw what the other woman did and gasped. She hadn't seen a proper person in _months_ now. He was walking without hesitation and Vera could only assume he hadn't seen them yet. She licked her lips unnecessarily: the cold wind blew terribly, she could see it rattling the branches of the trees and hear it rushing past her ears, but she couldn't actually _feel_ it, which was one of the strangest feelings she'd ever had. She was dreading the rain.

The young man didn't look particularly interesting but Vera was in no doubt that he was the one Jennet had been waiting for and traipsing over these moors waiting for and now he was here and… she wasn't bloody _doing_ anything! Weren't ghosts supposed to rattle chains and actually scare the living?

"He's seen you," she whispered, not quite sure why she was bothering to give the other woman a commentary when Jennet could quite easily see that sudden jolting of the young man's body that indicated he had finally seen the gaunt woman. Vera made a point of keeping herself as small as possible after she wrenched her heel free and huddling behind Jennet's skirt to observe him. If she was supposed to be learning it wouldn't be much use if she didn't actually _see_ what the older ghost was doing. Not that Jennet was actually doing anything.

"Are you going to follow him?"

She looked between the young man and Jennet for a second but neither of them looked like they were going to move. Jennet stared at him with the malevolence that Vera had gotten used to – she was even quite fond of it now and didn't know what she would do if the other woman _smiled_ – but the fear on man's face seemed to have spread through his whole body and rendered him immobile.

_"Hello?"_

He called to them and Vera furrowed her brow before it came to her. From a distance the veil over Jennet's face would hide the clearly dead face so this chump must think she had come to pay her respects to the late mistress of the house. Eventually, after a length of time during which the wind continued to blow and Vera grew a bit bored, the young man started walking towards them and Jennet immediately turned, her eyes flaring briefly to tell Vera to move, which she did, and they were off. Whether he had seen her or not Vera didn't know, but she suspected measures had been taken to render her invisible to his eyes, but they moved with long strides and had soon passed between a gap in the wall, down a small hill and quite suddenly Vera felt the world dissolve around her and they were gone from the marsh.

She blinked with surprise and looked around at the nothingness they had gone back to, the usual habitat of the spirits who couldn't be bothered with the mortal world. She furrowed her brow and looked towards Jennet.

"We're going back aren't we? Seems a bit pointless to scare him once and not even that badly."

Jennet nodded once and Vera smirked, eyes lighting up with the possibilities, and pleased that she had finally gotten some kind of answer out of the other ghost.

* * *

"I'm scared of mine, half her organs keep falling out of her…"

Vera scrunched up her nose at the unpleasant image and had to admit she much preferred Jennet to the thought of someone who'd make her feel sick just by looking at them. Not that she _could_ feel sick anymore, but still!

"Who was she?"

"Mary Kelly."

Vera's eyes went wide at that she turned away from the living room they'd both been watching towards her companion. She doubted very much that she would have liked Lavinia Swire in life, the girl was altogether too doe-eyed and sweet for her liking, but in the afterlife it was nice to have someone to meet at Downton Abbey on the days that she bothered to come here and see how Johnny was getting on. He hadn't been here for a while of course – which served him bloody well right – but somehow he seemed to have gotten out of prison and he was back in place as the valet of the house. Vera had _tried_ to hate him, she really had, but she still hated the girl more. Perfect simpering little Anna who had taken him from her and convinced him that she'd gone to her grave trying to see him hang; she could forgive a lot of things (she'd learnt from Jennet to never _forget_) but she could not forgive the wanton slandering of her name!

Still, there were some amusements to be had. She'd rolled her eyes at the thought of the pious housekeeper soon being amongst them, but thankfully that had been averted. She and Lavinia had been the first people to see the girl though. They'd not meant to be but they'd both been wondering around the grounds, meeting for a chat by the pavilion that Lavinia liked watching the other redhead read in sometimes, and quite suddenly the younger daughter had come running over to them with wide eyes and Vera had been preparing for a boring monologue from one of the Crawley daughters as they contemplated their _woes_ to the sky but instead she'd grabbed hold of Lavinia's arm and cried.

The sudden appearance of the blonde boy, the _heir no more_, had sent Lavinia into a melancholic confusion and Vera hadn't seen her for a while, but here they were again, watching the two younger ghosts as they watched their children.

"Has she told you who it was?"

Lavinia rolled her eyes, much more cynical now and Vera liked her all the more for it.

"She's saving it for a dramatic reveal I think. Typical Victorian."

Vera smirked and was preparing to concoct a plan with Lavinia to solve one of the great mysteries when she felt the pull inside her that commanded her to leave her own business. She growled and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

"Sorry, got to go."

"I'll see you soon."

She popped away from Lavinia, following the strange internal guidance she despised having purely because it always took her directly to Jennet and opening her eyes on the fucking marsh again.

God, this was getting tedious.

* * *

At least the inside of the house was a bit more interesting. There were plenty of knick-knacks lying around for her to fiddle with and this time she'd been quick about picking a book on the ground floor and so she had something to read in upstairs room where Jennet placed her to make the rocking noises that would lure the stupid young man upstairs so Jennet could scare him shitless.

Really, once she'd started to learn the technicalities of haunting Vera had to say she was disappointed. She'd always imagined malevolent spirits being present everywhere at once and it did shatter her illusions to know that instead it was a team effort and the entire aim was to scare him rather than actually harm him. There didn't seem much point to this particular haunting to Vera either. This chap – Kipps, she thought his name was – hadn't actually done anything to them and while Vera could see the point of just scaring someone for the sake of it, that sort of randomness didn't seem to be Jennet's usual style. She'd spent decades haunting _one_ woman after all. A woman that was probably senile anyway.

Oh well, she huffed and turned to the next page of the _Woman in White_, being quite disappointed when another page went by without anyone slapping the stupid blonde girl, it wasn't her place to question. Just to do as she was told. And maybe if she did well then she wouldn't have to be partnered up with Jennet and she'd be able to inhabit that nice little cottage Johnny and his tart had moved into and start the reign of haunting that she'd spent the last two months planning.

Downstairs she heard the boy pottering around and left her spot perched on the bed, pocketing the book to finish later, and left the room to look over the bannister. Jennet was advancing slowly across the entrance hall, with silent and effortless steps that made her look like she was gliding. If nothing else, she did admire her mentor's sense of style.

He gasped audibly – Vera just about heard him – and she knew that Jennet was invisible to him as he came into the hall. Vera moved back into the shadows to keep herself hidden, pulling the stupid veil she'd been made to wear in case she _was_ seen further down her face. He looked around and Vera had to resist the urge to make the hall chandelier fall on him and end this sorry charade for all of them. Instead she waited until he went back into the study and when he was gone from her sight she went back into the bedroom, took her seat in the rocking chair and began to move evenly. She pulled the book from her pocket and found her page again, keeping her momentum rhythmic as she had been told to do.

Footsteps on the landing only served to disturb her and she rolled her eyes when the bedroom door opened, bracing her foot quickly on the floor to make the chair be still just in time. The young man came into the room, edging around it as though it were filled with spectres and ghouls and yet quite unable to see the one belligerent ghost that was sat not two feet away from him. He reached out and brushed his hand over the wooded back of her chair and Vera moved her foot, rocking suddenly and he jumped a mile into the air and backed off quickly. She grinned to herself and put her book back in her pocket, determined that she was going to enjoy this even if Jennet would insist on making it boring.

Unfortunately for her sense of fun young Mr Kipps had the sense to leave the bedroom and Vera scowled as she got to her feet and locked the door behind him to make Jennet's appearance in the hallway all the more horrifying for him. His banging on the door alerted her that her mentor had made her appearance and sure enough he bolted into the other bedroom. Vera huffed, her part quite complete and found herself at a loss. She wound up all the toys for something to do, making sure they were ready for the next time Kipps came in and then fell down on the bed, kicking her legs up and closing her eyes, day-dreaming of the carnage she would cause when she was allowed a house of her own: there'd be none of this _subtlety _to start with!

* * *

In the village of Crythin Gifford Vera sat on the wall, quite invisible to the meagre population, and sulked.

She knew that she was supposed to _learn_ from Jennet and she was quite happy to do that really even if the bloody woman was a touch old fashioned for her, and she knew that she wasn't really _required_ to do everything that Jennet told her to, but it still chaffed that she'd had to refuse something point blank and look like a coward. The building in front of her was fairly non-descript and if it was just a matter of burning it to the ground to send a message to the village then she would be more than happy to oblige but the fact that the whole point was the kill the child hidden in the cellars gave her pause. She didn't mind the thought of killing someone too much, if they were someone that deserved it and had wrong her in life and were blonde, insipid, sluts, but the prospect of killing a _child_ turned her stomach.

The first flicker of flames danced out the window and in a matter of minutes the whole house seemed to be engulfed and half the village was gathered. The more people arrived the less Vera could see and she rolled her eyes and climbed up to stand on top of the wall, getting the best view possible despite already knowing the full extent of the horror that the villagers were yet to see for themselves. The man and his wife had already been dragged out, soot covered and crying and sure enough the realisation that the girl was still inside settled over one and all and Vera watched as the dawning realisation came onto their faces and they turned on the equally sooty man. We're she a more compassionate soul Vera thought she might have found it in her to feel sorry for Mr Kipps but the stupid bastard hadn't gotten the message and just _left_ so it was partly his own fault really.

Still, hours later when Jennet had vanished, leaving Vera to her own devices, she still stood on the wall and watched as they pulled out the little girl and behind them the same girl walked with wide, confused eyes. When children died they were usually too confused to know what was happening – Vera had learnt none of this from Jennet, who never spoke to her – and tended to wonder around, not knowing what to do or how to escape to somewhere different and this girl looked like she was going to be quite the same.

Vera bit her lip and watched as the girl went up to the adults she had known in her life, trying to garner their attention without any luck and crying when she was ignored. Sighing to herself, and wondering why death had rendered her so bleedin' soft, she reached out her hand and smiled at the girl.

"Come here sweetheart, I can help you."

* * *

Kipps was out of the house and Vera didn't think it was before time. Wherever he was now she couldn't really bring herself to care and Jennet certainly wasn't missing her presence as she sat on the broken sofa in Johnny's new cottage trying not to think about how it had been demolished. Johnny had always been a passionate soul but she had assumed his leg meant he wasn't up to anything too strenuous these days. Apparently he was still quite good at heavy lifting though and she had to admit that the cottage was rather homely, even if she thought the chit's taste in curtains was terrible.

Watching them was a particular kind of torture she had discovered. Lavinia had tried to warn her about it but then Lavinia wasn't around much anymore, now that she had a fiancé to introduce to their world and Vera couldn't help but wonder if John would be as receptive to his old paramour if he were to find himself in the spirit world. It wasn't that Matthew had renounced his wife entirely, but he was painfully, and rather pathetically, clinging to the thought that it would be many years before he saw her properly again and Lavinia was an old friend to turn to in his moment of need. And that was the rub of it Vera supposed, Lavinia had been a kind friend to him in her life and had died in his good graces; if John were to wake up to find her hovering over him she couldn't imagine he would be quite as calm.

On the other hand there was only one way to find out. And Anna wasn't pregnant yet. She'd watched Lavinia looking at the child sometimes, the child that could have been hers with the man she loved and Vera was determined that she wasn't going to fall into the same trap so really there were only two possible outcomes now: either she forgot about John (Jennet had taught her never to _forget_) or else she brought him over to her side before it was too late.

She felt the tug inside her and knew she was being called but she smiled this time. It would be Kipps again, she knew it, but that wasn't important. The little girl had died, plenty of people had died at Jennet's hand so it wasn't _impossible_ to kill someone who was still on the other side. It was just a matter of learning how.

End.


End file.
